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explorersaremadeofhope · 1 year

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trying to work out the heavenly hierarchy in good omens

because it's confusing as hell (🥁)

it's clearly based on the traditional (catholic) angelology hierarchy, probably the one from pseudo-dionysius, which goes as follows:

Highest orders: -Seraphim -Cherubim -Thrones Middle orders: -Dominions -Virtues -Powers Lowest orders: -Principalities -Archangels -Angels

obviously some changes have been made here.

what we do know:

GO heaven seems pretty clearly to have archangels as the highest rung on the ladder (ranked among themselves in a way we aren't totally clear on yet, but led by the supreme archangel, which was gabriel).

principalities clearly rank below archangels, though we don't know where exactly.

cherubim seem to be low ranking, judging by crowley's comment about extreme sanctions just being "something we used to say to frighten the cherubs". so here GO-verse seems to be using the later popular conception of cherubs instead of cherubim proper.

thrones and dominions appear to be middle-ish, as they have the security clearance needed to look at sensitive files, but there's obviously ranks above them ("you have to be a throne or a dominion or above").

some *fairly* educated guesses:

principalities are probably similarly placed to thrones/dominions, judging by how az and crowley wore almost identical robes and seemed to be doing pretty similar work, just in different 'departments'.

(another indicator that principalities are somewhere middle-ish is the drill sergeant type in s1 telling aziraphale that his "platoon" was waiting for him, i.e. he was clearly expected to command soldiers in the war -- but platoons are *generally* led by fairly junior officers, and he clearly isn't high ranking enough for this guy not to yell at him and call him a pathetic excuse for an angel.)

(you can take the reading that crowley outranked aziraphale by a little bit, since he had no compunction about calling him over, and didn't bother to tell him his name. but the latter also has obvious other reasons for it -- we don't *know* his name -- and the visual language does seem to indicate they're roughly equal, which also makes narrative sense with their role as foils for each other.)

some speculation:

"angels" obviously can refer to all ranks as a common term, but it seems to also be used to denote the specific rung on the ladder that muriel belongs to -- the rank and file who don't have fancy titles, and who are further grouped into 37 orders (i'm guessing the archangels made up the 38th order especially for gabriel just to be dicks, since muriel didn't know it existed).

the metatron seems to exist a bit outside the hierarchy -- he sits in on the important board meetings, but isn't an archangel. he can order the archangels about, but at the same time they don't seem *used* to being ordered about by him, or even seeing him much. unlike them he's not an executive officer, so he probably mainly leaves the day-to-day running of the place to them and keeps to himself. (which only makes him more mysterious. what's he up to when he's not cleaning up messes??)

with nothing to go on re: the other ranks and no way of knowing how much GO verse has shifted them around (or even if they've included them all) there's no way (yet!) to work out a proper hierarchy, but here's a very rough guess:

The Metatron Archangels [Seraphim? Virtues? Powers?] Thrones Dominions Principalities (^ the order of these three may be shifted around, but thrones go directly above dominions.) [for all we know, Virtues or Powers or both may also go here, but my money is on the more original placement.] Angels Cherubs

obviously i'm just writing this down as a form of thinking out loud and i don't expect to be *right*, but it's been driving me crazy, so here we are.

#this is just for myself really -- sorry to put it in the tag; my need for organisation compels me #good omens

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teabooksandsweets · 2 years

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A City of Bells

Chapter VI — Part III

But to-day he did not get farther than a few nods and bows, for the shop-bell tinkled and the curtain rang up on the drama of the Dean of Torminster. He was a character. He had a commanding figure, bushy white side-whiskers and legs especially moulded by Nature to wear gaiters. Like Mr. Gotobed he always wore a top-hat, but whereas Mr. Gotobed’s hat was always poised on the back of the head the Dean’s was always tipped forward over the nose, which was in this case aquiline. The Dean’s blood was very blue indeed and his balance at the bank heavy. These things, he thought, were to his credit, and the knowledge tinged his bearing and his high-pitched, nasal, fluting voice with a slight pomposity. As a Father in God he had his limitations, but as a figure-head he was perfect, and as such Torminster was proud to wear him on the prow of its ship.

“Fine day, fine day,” piped the Dean, as though patronizing it, and tripped over Mixed Biscuits. “Must this animal take upon himself the duties of a doormat?” he continued in icy and falsetto annoyance, though the catastrophe was just as much his fault as Mixed Biscuits’, for why should Mixed Biscuits look out for him any more than he for Mixed Biscuits? But the Dean was one of those who are far more aware of the obligations of others to them than of theirs to others … Mixed Biscuits, unapologized to for a nasty kick on the hind parts, growled and went under the counter … “And might one ask what kind of a dog he is?” went on the Dean, implying that Mixed Biscuits’ lack of breeding should prevent him from sunning himself on a respectable doormat.

“I’ve decided to call him a Rumanian mousehound,” said Jocelyn a little coldly.

“Ah!” commented the Dean, “another of these Balkan problems,” and became quite sunny again, for no one appreciated his occasional gleams of humour more than he did himself.

“What can I do for you?” asked Jocelyn.

The Dean sat down, readjusted his top-hat and folded his hands on top of his silver-headed stick.

“This annual difficulty of the choir-school prize-giving,” he proclaimed through his nose, “will be upon us in a couple of months and I should like to consult with you upon the choice of books for that purpose.”

Jocelyn bowed with great solemnity to hide the twinkle in his eyes. He always enjoyed the Dean immensely.

“For the dear boys these are the formative years,” continued the Dean, “and I realize the importance of the personal touch. I write each boy’s name in his book with my own hand and I trust that the book with its inscription will recall to him throughout life the few words that I may have occasion to speak at the moment of presentation. But I naturally cannot set my seal to any work but that of the highest quality.”

Jocelyn quite saw that.

“The books should be instructive but not heavy,” fluted the Dean, “suitable to their tender years yet sufficiently advanced in thought to act as counsellors through life, and of course of irreproachable purity … Difficult … Difficult.”

Jocelyn agreed that it was.

“And what would you suggest?”

“Verse,” said Jocelyn promptly.

“Eh?” piped the Dean, surprised. “Personally I distrust verse. There is a luxuriance about it that appears to me slightly sensual.”

“Why should luxuriance be sensual?” asked Jocelyn. “Look at the seraphim … All that wing.”

The Dean thought this remark flippant and waved it aside with the well-kept left hand that wore a diamond ring. “May I inquire your reasons for advising verse?” he asked.

“Children love good poetry,” said Jocelyn. “It appeals to their sense of rhythm, I think … You know how a baby loves to watch anything swinging … And grown people love it because its very luxuriance recaptures their youth for them. Therefore verse fulfils one of your requirements and provides something that will appeal throughout life.”

“H’m. Yes,” said the Dean. “Possibly, possibly.”

“And then as regards instruction without heaviness,” said Jocelyn. “I have heard it said that real poetry is always the expression of very intense perception. The jog-trot of prose is sufficient for the mere observer to record his observations in, but the man who has seen behind an appearance to its significance employs winged verse. He must, like a lark, leap up above the material plane if he is to convey any impression of the significance to which he has penetrated.”

“I doubt if I follow you,” said the Dean shortly … There were times when he had a very slight suspicion that Jocelyn led him on.

“When an artist, be he poet or painter, has expressed the significance of a thing he has said the inevitable word on that subject and by doing so has created a masterpiece. And surely a masterpiece is instructive? And it is certainly never heavy or, as Anatole France tells us, it could not fly over the ages in the way it does.”

“Possibly, possibly,” said the Dean. “But we are still left with the need for literature of irreproachable purity. The lives of the poets do not always show that. Shelley, for instance … Regrettable … Regrettable.”

“That’s got nothing to do with it.”

“Eh?”

“You’ve got no business to inquire into an artist’s private life.”

The Dean snorted. He enjoyed his talks with Jocelyn, but there were times when the young man presumed.

“It’s got nothing to do with you unless you happen to be attending his soul in a professional capacity,” continued the intrepid Jocelyn. “What matters to you is what he gives you, not the flaws in a personality that has perhaps been cracked and strained by the effort of giving.”

“Possibly, possibly,” said the Dean, and then, with a sudden change of tone, “Ah! Spring roses and June sunshine!”

He was gazing out of the window, preening himself slightly and inserting his eyeglass as he did so, for outside in the Market Place was Felicity.

The Dean had an eye for a pretty woman. Never did he allow it to lead him beyond the bounds of propriety, but still, he had it. “Ah!” he said again. “Exquisite! Exquisite!”

Both men gazed, the Dean with the appraising yet detached eye of the connoisseur, Jocelyn with the hunger of the lover.

Felicity was standing by the holy well among the pigeons, feeding them and watching them, engrossed in them, her body taut in its habitual attitude of poised attentiveness, as though she had sent her mind up into the air with the pigeons and her body were just going to take wing to join it. She wore yellow to-day, instead of her usual blue, and looked as though she were spun out of the warm air and the golden light of autumn. The pigeons were strutting round her feet and circling round her head and shoulders, obscuring her gold with the silvery colour of their wings. Jocelyn had not noticed that they flocked round other people as they did round Felicity, but then all birds and animals loved her. Like all happy people she always seemed to be very close to the earth and to all growing, living things. Perhaps her joy in life gave her a special unity with all forms of life, and entry into that state of awareness where self’s forgotten and the horizon of love creeps out and out until it embraces all that can be seen and known while the body still hems in the spirit.

“Charming, charming,” said the Dean. “A little too thin, perhaps, but very nearly perfection. Do you know the lady?”

“She is Mrs. Jameson’s goddaughter.”

“I should be honoured by an introduction.”

Jocelyn could have cheerfully slain him, for it was a crime to disturb that picture of golden stillness and silvery movement … What was more he was not going to … He strolled to the front door and stood watching, letting the picture of Felicity grave itself so deeply on his mind that when with the passing of time it would seem to other people that she had grown old and lost her beauty it would not seem so to him.

But his attention was too burning not to affect her. She felt it as a warmth in her secret spot of loneliness and she swung round towards him as one turns unconsciously towards a fire. “The Dean,” said Jocelyn, strolling towards her, “wishes to be introduced. You’re a little too thin, perhaps, but charming.”

Felicity, her eyes twinkling, returned with him to the shop, where the Dean had risen to his feet and removed his hat.

The introduction took place, the Dean and Felicity seated themselves on Jocelyn’s two hard shop chairs and exchanged beautiful Victorian compliments, Felicity rising to the occasion with amazing histrionic skill.

“Will you convey my compliments to your admirable godmother,” summed up the Dean at the end of a quarter of an hour, “and my wife and I will be delighted if you will both drink tea with us on Thursday next.”

“I am unfortunately obliged to leave Torminster this afternoon,” said Felicity sweetly, “but I am sure that my godmother will be most happy to accept your invitation.”

The Dean was perturbed. His wife could not stand Mrs. Jameson, and if she were to turn up on Thursday next undiluted by Felicity he feared that there would be domestic trouble later … But his courtesy was not only on the surface … “Delighted, delighted,” he murmured distractedly. “My wife will write. Good day. Good day.”

He shook hands, bowed, re-poised his top-hat over his aquiline nose and issued, out into the Market Place in some distress of mind, entirely forgetting the choirboys’ books.

“Now that was really wrong of me,” said Felicity with contrition. “But it hurts Aunt Adelaide that they never ask her to the Deanery, and now they’ll have to.”

But Jocelyn was not interested in Aunt Adelaide’s feelings. “Are you really going to-day?” he asked.

“Yes. I was coming to say good-bye when you saw me. I’ve been offered a part in a new play.”

Jocelyn felt stricken, the more so that he had not realized until this moment what it would mean if Felicity went away. There was suddenly no warmth in the sunshine and no brightness in the fires of autumn. The chill of it, that sighed at midnight and touched the morning and the evening with icy fingers, struck at him like a sword … These warm lovers of life, born under dancing stars, how without them was life tolerable for those, such as himself, whose bias was towards sadness, their stars cloud-hidden when their spirits woke to life … In this world, surely, there should always be a mating between the lovers of life and the endurers of it, in couples they should find a causeway for their feet and walk it together, the star-shine of the one comforting the darkness of the other.

“When will you be back?” he asked tonelessly.

“If the play is a failure, and it’s so clever and beautiful that it’s sure to be, I shall be back for Christmas.”

“You’ll be glad to get back to your work?”

“Yes. I love it.”

“Is it so wonderful?” He spoke carelessly, trying to hide his burning eagerness to know just how much her stage life meant to her.

“Of course it’s wonderful. It’s the only form of art in which you actually feel what you are giving accepted. It gives you a glorious feeling of power.”

“And fills every corner of your life?”

“Of course it doesn’t. How silly you’re being, Jocelyn! It wouldn’t fill every corner of me unless I were a genius, and I’m not, I’m only a perfectly ordinary woman gifted with a personality that happens to give pleasure on the stage. And that life has not got the whole of me; there seems to be something of me, the kernel perhaps, that I can’t give to it however much I try. I couldn’t give up my work, but I want something besides, something deeper that will satisfy deep things in me.”

Their eyes met and she hoped she had made herself understood, but feared not, men were so obtuse …

“I wonder what sort of financial condition the shop will be in when you come back,” said Jocelyn lightly. Their eyes met again and he hoped he had made her see what he was driving at, but was afraid not—women being sometimes rather slow at the uptake.

Further mutual enlightenment was impossible, for the Dean reappeared, slightly breathless. Half-way home it had occurred to his subconscious mind that if he did not go back and have another good look at Felicity he would not get the chance again for some while to come. This idea, slightly altered in transit, appeared in his conscious mind as a conviction that it was his plain duty to go back to the bookshop and settle the matter of the choirboys’ prizes.

“Ah, Miss Felicity!” he proclaimed, hat in hand. “Still here?”

“I’m just going home.”

“Then I can have the happiness of offering my escort. Permit me.”

He offered his arm with an air, Felicity accepting it with an even greater air.

“I’ll see you off at the station,” whispered Jocelyn.

“Two-forty-five,” whispered Felicity.

“Send up a selection of the poets to the Deanery, Captain Irvin,” piped the Dean. Then he and Felicity bowed to Jocelyn, swept from the shop, sailed across the Market Place and glided superbly towards the Close, exchanging mutual compliments as they went.

Only in Torminster, thought Jocelyn as he watched them, was the world sufficiently leisured for such a display of la politesse.

#torminstertravels #a city of bells #booklr #adultbooklr #literature #a city of bells: chapter 6

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heartsbitten · 7 months

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Fallen Angel /deal bound Lute verse info drop tied with @gethellbcnt 's Stella; following the battle of hazbin hotel and losing Adam. Lute seeking to avenge her commander and friend sought leave from the Seraphim but was refused. Torn between her loyalty to Heaven and desire for vengeance, Lute made her choice and entered Hell alone sword in hand. Ambushing the Hotel Inhabitants Lute came close to ending the life of Vaggie, but was forced to flee heavily injured.

Wandering through the alleyways of the city, Lute was left with few options anymore. She couldn't return to Heaven, nor could she attack the hotel for a good while. Exhausted, she'd run into Stella, a demon noble of the Ars Goetia. Seeing the value in having an angel for a bodyguard and hearing Lute's story Stella offered the angel a place as her personal guard and sword in exchange Lute would have her protection and another chance at revenge. With so little options before her Lute begrudgingly accepted forming a deal with the goetia demon binding herself to Stella from that day forth.

#fallen/deal bound;; lute verse #ooc;; the mun #gethellbcnt

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libidomechanica · 9 months

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“Some gentle muses”

Some gentle muses! The devilish �� malignant with an ear in its wild race. The moon’s soft splendour o’er the laws the lightly me, but, trowth, I care na by. That you that thou continent.

It is no telling. The clock strikes me dead brown, her who begin my poem. As fast as their treble interjections, let none wanting a great wrong, to take a city; but

he is so late? A tone of some world? A few sad tears she needy honour, and do you shall quench like him in; oft blind man, with seraphims the vale. Feeling are one. Only my

Corinna’s eye? To any sensual feast will open for that men or gods are the name o’ clink, that white necks, bleached by time.—A sunbow’s arc above the middle of her tides,—

adagios of islands, O my Prodigal, complete the day, ye wadna been sae shy; for laik o’ gear ye lightest form a friend the cape’s wet stone; the answer to thy bliss, though

i have crimes accounted been. A plenteous gift thou know me that second whiskey, on the roofs and with Melancholy. Steadily as a suddenly arrests me for ever

open is his own, and she her selfe doth a feeble cry he said: twas but enslaved the morning dresses whose outlet’s Dover! A people every clime, of being taken in,

the fool ourselves into a scrape, but I say, No! Any one things? Despised, when all these noble language ever did through gorges unexplored since thou, with your lover. We hae

plight than few; but the guns of Cavalli with faire mindes resort. But whether in the best endow’d she gave the fish or tongues of a morning, and suffer and have but pick’d out

at his head, alone are you, all song of praise add something indeede true Men to keep the whole things transmission, from violently. Cling, sterling, strangle this is something in effect

was of inflation the silly wards will course ne’er be prince from thee I cannot hold them, Since you kiss, thou hast graced grace is slack; now, there thy birth, and oft the house: yet asleep. Coming

at the flood full brown came from the abyss of all sufferings to Hallam’s Middle Ages, ’ and one hand, and the bolts of beautie with myself as Spring, hate sweetly than ours, a

friend they live without one peece of love that’s out of sight, and the pony moves his stead. On the Sea-shore sat a Raven, blind, and when though not vain the stream, command himself come on

me which some parts run o’er, I can’t espy in any one the Beauty beautifie your best, and lamb. Is always petal myself a welcome inmate the cradle wants a cradle

wants a cradle wants a cradle, and fall dreaming ordures of amber. Or revel in thee: the bitter springs as if in fact that conuersation sweete, make in my stoop

and as for chastity, you’llhave a visit from kiss to kiss. One weeps, the large domains which makes me in my verse distills your truth. But if Love don’t, Cash does, and thee to mee: no,

no, no, no, my Deare, let bee. A disc of misfortune be: this wish I could our own ways together go, but by degrees, thought our foot of his pence, this piteous news so much love

before was wearing your pockets? The long pursued as for chastity, you’llfind it of a different beak could neither Johnny in his self-denial. The pony moves his stead.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #134 texts #ballad

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lit-works · 2 years

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Doctor Strange: Through the 6th dimension

Pt.3

Almost within sight when Strange returned to the Sanctum Sanctorum in the village, Hell's kitchen lied like a giant nest for water rats on the shore of the Hudson River. This neighborhood had been blighted by crime, poverty, gang violence, and every other I'll that thrived in New York. And then, on the river beyond the waterfront, a new menace had come. Floating just above the low square buildings, Strange saw the wharves of Hell's Kitchen. Beyond them, an aircraft of some sort was battling with a small gunship.

As he got closer, Strange saw that the forces nothing so mundane. They had guns, yes–but guns that fired bolts of blue eldritch lightning from blades of green metal. A ship, indeed, but disk-shaped, like a saucer, and manned by a crew of stick-figure shapes like black puppets. An aircraft, true, but that many-winged missile was not held aloft by the laws of physics. Magic was at work here.

Strange noticed, looking down in his journey, that people were fleeing the area. Good, Strange thought, fewer innocents were in danger. Only a few gawking spectators remained on the wharves as Strange reached the river. The Omnipotent Oshtur was praised, that Strange had made it to them in time.

Strange chanted an encantation. All those who stood in his path were gathered into the white glow that sprung from Strange's hands. His levitation spell carried the onlookers several blocks away. They landed safely, and a desire to not return haunted their minds.

The rescue came none to soon, for the blue lightning bolts missed their airborne target and struck the waterfront. Screeching missiles from "plane" and "boat" alike flew wildly through the air. Already war threatened to ravage the neutral ground, unless Strange could.protect it.

His well-placed Shields of the Seraphim blocked the early volleys of missiles, which exploded harmlessly over his head. Another cantrip produced thick, swirling mists on both shores of the river–The Vapors of Valtorr. Those would protect the world at large from exposure to matters it could not even comprehend.

Though the immediate peril was under control, Strange had to act quickly.

Both of these invaders were enemies of Earth, that's clear enough, but how could Strange defeat them? He preferred not to take life, and yet…

Suddenly, he realized that these craft had to of arrived there through some kind of a portal, similar to the portals the invaders had used in the Stock Exchange, a gateway that would have left a residual aura. The doctor closed his eyes and cleared his mind, as he sent forth his awareness.

There! And there again! Burned like embers on his inner eyelids were the spots where the plane and gunboat had entered the dimension–two portals, one on the water, the other above–easily matched to their users.

Doctor Strange's task was obvious. He threw his arms wide, spoke the ancient verses, let the energy of the geocosm flow through him like a spring breeze. "Let the Winds of Watoomb drive these invaders from this shore! Let gales of force lift the plane it's entry point, and let windswept waves drive the saucer over the river to it's origins! Now let the portals open once more to receive their alien owners,and close them forevermore!" Strange commanded.

And it was so.

Strange was pleased with his solution, but he realized he must do more than repel preliminary forces like those he had just defeated to keep Earth safe. Eventually, he must take his fight to their home dimensions.

Matters had been resolved there. The vapors would vanish shortly.

Doctor Strange checked the buildings and streets of Hell's Kitchen to ensure that no mystical activity had escaped his notice. It was tiresome work but part of the eternal vigilance that was the duty of the Sorcerer Supreme of the Earth dimension.

Satisfied that nothing untoward had happened, Strange began his return to the Sanctum, when he spied a mysterious figure bounding along the rooftops. He approached the red-suited figure, and found it was the vigilante known as the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, the Daredevil! Doctor Strange and Daredevil had fought side-by-side in times past, as part of the sometime superhero group known to the public as The Defenders. Strange drifted downwards.

Before he called out, Daredevil turned and looked upwards, "Good Morning, Doc," he called, astonishingly! The cloak was utterly silent in flight, and he had masked his presence with invisibility.

"Greetings to you, Daredevil." Strange replied, alit and dropped his illusion as a courtesy.

"Looks like I got here too late to help you handle things, but with you, they were probably out of my depth anyways." He said. "I'd better go help clean up after your battle. Been good to see you again."

"Of course. May the Vishanti bless your endeavours," Strange said, and puzzled for a moment at the fact that Daredevil could see the site of the battle,even through the magical Vapors of Valtorr.

#marvel #marvel comics #marvel characters #comic books #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic series #marvel fanfic #my fanfiction #my fanfic #doctor strange #wong #daredevil #matt murderdock #l1t3rat1

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wesenschau · 3 years

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Israel, Pharaoh, The Tents of Kedar and Mary

In Deuteronomy 32:21 we are told what happens when Israel deviates from God’s hierarchical prescriptions:

“They have moved me to jealousy with that which is not God; they have provoked me to anger with their vanities: and I will move them to jealousy with those which are not a people; I will provoke them to anger with a foolish nation.”

It is in God that all things have their being/existence, it is in God’s mind that all things are sustained. This means, when man turns away from the cosmic hierarchies which God operates in creation by, they are turning towards non-being/non-existence/disintegration/exile. We can see a typological pattern throughout the Old Testament of Israel failing to fulfill the torah, tending towards non existence, being exiled and then being reunified through the gentiles. This article from James Jordan explores this concept more in-depth. What it means for Israel to move God to jealousy with that which is not God, is to turn away from divinely established meanings and names of reality and try to name/bring meaning to things on your own account (it is the attempt to make a name for oneself [gen. 11:4]). This is the fundamental sin which divides us from God/where God wants us to be. Of course there is always a redemptive aspect to this pattern. This can be seen most clearly in Christ’s redeeming the sin of Adam.

Whenever Israel turns from God, they face exile -- they are sent to the wilderness; God then turns his attention to the wilderness and shows Israel how the wilderness/unknown aspects of reality are to be reconciled into the grand cosmic structure of things. The books of Isaiah and Jeremiah shed much light on this. For Jeremiah, as a mosaic-type prophet, Israel has become the new pharaoh. Note Israel disobeying God’s commandment to “not . . . return the people to Egypt . . . , since the LORD has said to you, ‘You must never return that way again” (Deut 17:16) in Jer. 31, and Israel committing the sin of pharaoh in Jer. 34 (the refusal to release slaves/the presumption that man can account for all aspects of reality). Woe to those who go down to Egypt for help! (Is. 31:1). For Isaiah Israel is as a barren woman requiring a kinsman redeemer. At the end of Daniel we are told from the time of the book till redemption is 1290 days, which is 430*3. 430 years is the time from Abraham till the time of the exodus (Gal. 3:17)/ the time of sojourn in Egypt (Exodus 12:40). There is a triplet “exile” from the time that the daily sacrifice shall be taken away, and the abomination that maketh desolate set up (Dan. 12:11). In order these three sojourns are under: Antiochus Epiphanes -> the Maccabean dynasty -> Herodian dynasty + Jewish priesthood. The little horn of Daniel 7 corresponds with the 2-horned land beast of Revelation 12 and has a twofold operation of Herodian and corrupted priestly power structures. This two horned beast is the same beast that crucified Christ and is described in Revelation as the whore of Babylon, who “in her was found the blood of prophets, and of saints” (Rev. 18:24). This is the same Jerusalem whom Jesus laments over in Mt. 23:17 “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not!“.

This brings light to the passage in Matthew 2:3 where God calls His Son out of Egypt -- Egypt, being Israel. It is no wonder that Ishmael, son of an Egyptian, is shown by Saint Paul to be a symbol of Israel/the law in Galatians 4.

Now that we have established the pharaonic nature of Israel at the time of Christ, we can open up a prosopological reading of Psalm 120:5. In Psalm 120:5 we see Christ sojourning in Meshech and dwelling in the tents of Kedar. Meshech is a son of Japheth and one of the surrounding nations in the battle of Gog and Magog. Kedar is a son of Ishmael and is associated with the nomadic wilderness (Ezk. 27:21; Jer. 2:10). Ps. 120:5 is Christ mourning over the apostasy of the Jews -- the giving up of their wings of holiness (Num. 15:37-41) and their taking up of wings of abominations (Dan. 9:27). “Woe is me!” cries Christ, “that my people have rejected me! Woe is me! That the temple has become desolate, like a wild desert! Woe is me! That I dwell in the temple which has been transformed to a foreign tent of nomads!” The consequence of Israel’s rejection of Christ is that he is to bring light to the nations, which, although obviously good, is not good that it needs to be done under the pretext of Israel’s disobedience. Christ’s mourning over the temple in Luke 19:41-44 (note verse 42 and Ps. 120:7) comes from the same place as Jonah’s mourning over the conversion of Nineveh under the gourd plant. The conversion of gentiles meant the disobedience and demise of Israel; thus Christ laments: “Woe is me! that I sojourneth in a foreign nation, that I have been forced out into Egypt, even unto the tents of Kedar, to find someone to share my love with!”

A mariological reading is also, in my opinion, applicable -- particularly in light of Sg. 1:5-6. Mary, like Isaiah, comes from a people of unclean lips (Is. 6:5) (note the solution to this uncleanness is sacrificial/eucharistic in nature [Is. 6:6-7 -> Ps. 120:4]). In a mariological reading of song of songs we see a Holy Bride seeking nothing but to serve and love her Bridegroom. We see that Mary desires to bring Christ into her mother's house, and into the chamber of her that conceived her (Sg. 3:4) and to lead Christ, and bring him into her mother’s house who would instruct her (Sg. 8:2). I believe this is fulfilled in Luke 2, in the presentation of the Lord in the temple (and continues to be fulfilled by many faithful Christians bringing Christ into the various profane institutions/structures in which they were raised. On a grander scale the Church has never failed to take profane philosophy/worldly knowledge and baptize it and consecrate it to the Lord).

[Side note: Sg. 8:3 provides an interesting insight into the Marian aspect of the Eucharist -- demonstrating her inseparability from the Church, which I would like to develop/explore further, God willing].

In my opinion, Mary’s confession of being black, but comely and being likened unto the tents of Kedar, and the curtains of Solomon is possibly twofold in its allegorical indications:

1) Mary is in a temple which is stained -- where the curtains of Solomon have become like the black tents of Kedar. Why did this happen? because Israel failed to keep their own vineyard and was subjected to enslavement under foreign rule (Sg. 1:6). Because of Mary’s identification with the temple and her people, which are of an unclean lip (Is. 6:5) she mourns over their uncleanness, but shows that there is still hope in the whittled down, comely line of David, which is a sign of God’s faithfulness. Because the Jews have become like Egypt, the children of Mary’s mother (meaning: the benefactors of second temple corruption) force Mary and her Bridegroom out unto the real tents of Kedar, where Christ transforms them into curtains of Solomon (Sg. 1:5-6). It is interesting to note Kedar’s connection to Egypt -- Kedar being a son of Ishmael and his Egyptian bride (Gen. 25:13) (Ishmael was also born of an Egyptian woman [Hagar, Gen. 16:1]). (The fact Ishmael had an Egyptian mother and an Egyptian wife further solidifies the association of bride and mother in this context. Also note the comparison of the Bride to a company of horses in Pharaoh’s chariots in Sg. 1:9).

2) This next idea is ultimately connected to the concept of original sin and the story of Adam being installed as the priest/keeper of his garden/vineyard but he failed to do so, and because of that, God had to put barriers/mediators between Adam/man and Himself in order that the sun may not burn them (sg. 1:6). Mary, although sinless, carried the burden of original sin. It is because Mary had original sin but was sinless that she perfectly fulfilled her place in the arc of salvation as new Eve. (Eve did not have original sin but still sinned -- Eve was like the curtains of Solomon but voluntarily brought upon herself exile out of the garden into the wild tents of Kedar. Mary, however, although stained by the blackness and burns of original sin remained altogether comely.)

The antimonies of black, but comely and the tents of Kedar / the curtains of Solomon (as well as the multitude of twofold descriptions throughout the song of songs) definitely call back to the two goats in the day of atonement, in which all of reality is accounted for by God and the prescribed participation in that reality by Israel -- although, this is a concept I need to explore more in-depth.

[The unknown/wild aspects of reality, represented by the tents of Kedar, are not inherently evil and will ultimately be reconciled within God’s total account of all things within His cosmic structure of reality. It becomes evil, however, when man attempts to structure reality and account for these wild/unknown things within his own naming/reasoning.]

Many of these ideas are drawing heavily upon concepts I’ve been introduced to by Kabane/Seraphim Hamilton, who never fails to provide inspiring, edifying and brilliant content.

This was a jumbled together mess of ideas but I hope some level of coherency was achieved and that someone can learn something from this. 😄

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themudokonmessiah · 2 years

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#nerium tag #seraphim tag #Commander Verse strictly #When Nerium and Seraphim fight for control #Literally you will see them speaking to each other at times if you're lucky #It's never pleasant though #When that happens Ambroneo has to section him to stop Seraphim from getting the chance

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numbersbythebook · 4 years

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4 Living Beings

written by Will Schumaker

In Revelation 4 we are presented with four living beings full of eyes.

Revelation 4:6 And before the throne there was a sea of glass like unto crystal: and in the midst of the throne, and round about the throne, were four beasts full of eyes before and behind.

They have four faces.

Revelation 4:7 And the first beast was like a lion, and the second beast like a calf, and the third beast had a face as a man, and the fourth beast was like a flying eagle.

They each of 6 wings of eyes and do not cease praising God saying “Holy, Holy, Holy”

Revelation 4:8 And the four beasts had each of them six wings about him; and they were full of eyes within: and they rest not day and night, saying, Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, which was and is and is to come .

These beings are first found in Isaiah 6 and are called “seraphim”:

Isaiah 6:2 Above it stood the seraphims: each one had six wings; with twain he covered his face, and with twain he covered his feet, and with twain he did fly.

The gematria of the above verse is 5752.

From what the Bible teaches about these four living beings, my assumption is that this is a picture of the Holy Spirit. These beings forgive sin and only God can forgive sin. My assumption also is that since this is the first occurrence of these four living beings that the number 5752 would additionally shed light on who these beings are.

Strong’s H5752 = Oded. Oded means “restorer” according to Strong’s. I looked at Abarim productions to see the meaning of Oded since they give a more detailed look at the root meaning. Abarim productions says it means “a perpetual witnessing”.

The Holy Spirit is a restorer and a perpetual witness to us, so I thought that was a match.

The first use of Strong’s H5752 is about the Holy Spirit coming upon the son of Oded, Azariah.

2 Chronicles 15:1 And the Spirit of God came upon Azariah the son of Oded:

Again another match. I looked at what Azariah means and it means “Jehovah has helped”. The Holy Spirit is our Helper.

I looked at Bible verse # 5752. Joshua is a type of Christ bringing the Israelites into the promised land which is a type of eternal life. God says He will be with Him. We know Jesus is described as full of the Spirit constantly. God was with Him through His Spirit.

Deuteronomy 31:23 And he gave Joshua the son of Nun a charge, and said, Be strong and of a good courage: for thou shalt bring the children of Israel into the land which I sware unto them: and I will be with thee.

The gematria of verse 5752 is 5397. Strong’s H5397= breath. The breath of God is the Holy Spirit.

Job 33:4 The Spirit of God hath made me, and the breath of the Almighty hath given me life.

Job uses H5397 seven times; more so than any other book

There are 4 verses in the bible with a gematria of 5752. Coincidentally that matches the 4 faces of the living beings.

These are the four verses.

Genesis 43:11 And their father Israel said unto them, If it must be so now, do this; take of the best fruits in the land in your vessels, and carry down the man a present, a little balm, and a little honey, spices, and myrrh, nuts, and almonds:

Isaiah 6:2 Above it stood the seraphims: each one had six wings; with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he did fly.

John 2:4 Jesus saith unto her, Woman, what have I to do with thee? mine hour is not yet come.

Acts 13:49 And the word of the Lord was published throughout all the region.

I can see Acts 13:49 being tied to the Holy Spirit. The goal of the Holy Spirit is to publish the word of the Lord throughout the world. Further the key word seems to be “publish”. It is Strongs G1308. This verse from Job using H5397=”breath” which is the Spirit has a gematria of 1308.

Job 4:9 By the blast of God they perish, and by the breath of his nostrils are they consumed.

John 2:4 I believe there is something there but I haven’t understood it fully yet.

The first verse with a gematria of 5752, Genesis 43:11, on a hidden level is tied to the Holy Spirit. There is a famine in the land which on a hidden level means a spiritual famine for the word of God. Joseph as a type of Christ has Simeon whose names means to “ hear” and therefore obey. He has taken away their hearing. Jacob commands his kids to bring back the “best fruits” in order to be fed and get back their hearing.

The “best fruits” is Strong’s H2173. It comes from the root meaning “to prune” of “to trim”. The Holy Spirit prunes us so we bring forth fruits of repentance.

Matthew 3:8 Bring forth therefore fruits meet for repentance:

When we are willing to repent God will feed us with His word and we are open to Him revealing Himself to us.

Job has another verse with H5397 = breath in it that has a gematria of 2173.

Job 37:10 By the breath of God frost is given: and the breadth of the waters is straitened.

Verse # 2173 is about the Holy Spirit acting as a hornet and striking down. Strong’s H6880 = ”hornet”. It comes from H6879 which means ”to strike down”.

Exodus 23:28 And I will send hornets before thee, which shall drive out the Hivite, the Canaanite, and the Hittite, from before thee.

The hornet is a figurative power of God striking down His enemies.

SO...Isaiah 6:2 is the first occurrence of the 4 living beings in the bible. The way the Bible describes them, they seem to be the power of God in action. The Holy Spirit is the invisible power of God. The gematria of this first verse about them is 5752 and the number 5752 and corresponding numbers sure seem to point to the Holy Spirit.

#will schumaker #bible numbers #gematria #Seraphim #Holy Spirit #Four Beasts #Bible number systems #Four Living Beings #Isaiah 6 #Spirit of God #Jesus Christ

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rxptured · 5 years

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Angel facts about Adrianna:

I often refer to Adrianna as a “Fallen” when IC because that’s what she is, a fallen angel. She had her wings cut off and fell from grace to the physical realm. She has two, long jagged scars down her back to prove it, but proceed with caution: it’s a hella sensitive subject to talk about. Don’t be surprised if she’ll snap at you because of it.

She refers to everyone else as ‘earthlings’ because ‘humans’ or even ‘mortals’ doesn’t even begin to encompass the whole definition as she perceives it. Before falling Adrianna was literally a transcendent, ethereal being of pure devine energy, who’s lived for maybe millennia. Having fallen to earth, she rather understands it as an entire realm or dimension rather than a planet, for example, thus humans, and all the other non-human creatures that inhabit it are ‘earthlings’.

Adrianna is a woman because she was created from the soul of an very young girl when she died. She refers to God as her ‘Mother’. If it were a young boy’s soul, then Adrianna would’ve appeared as a male, and referred to God as ‘Father’.

Adrianna’s mother tongue is Enochian, the language of gods and angels [ direct reference to H. P. Lovecraft and John Dee ] which in the physical realm allowed Adrianna to be a polyglot. She knows most European languages.

Adrianna, in her physical form is sterile and cannot bear children. This does not pose a problem as she has zero maternal instincts or desire to become a mother.

Heaven works on a hierarchical structure. Adrianna worked her way through each rank, starting with Guardian Angel and ending with Heruvin, which was the second highest before Seraphim. A Heruvin is a general commander of armies sort of role [ her entire title as an angel refereed to her as a ‘lord over 10 000 legions’ or something of the like ].

She has a lot of war and battle field experience; basically a tactical genius and formidable strategist as well as very well versed in hand to hand combat and various weaponry.

In her physical form, Adrianna’s hair glow bright white when she goes through extreme experiences. It can be a strong emotion, or a climax during intercourse. She is unaware of this and the glow will disappear as soon as it’s pointed out to her.

Her body is several degrees colder than a normal human’s and her heartbeat beats regularly at about half the pace. Her body is also, theoretically, self sustainable; she doesn’t need to drink, eat or sleep to survive, but does all of them anyway.

In her physical form, Adrianna was a serious of abilities that distinguish her from regular humans. First of all, her agility; she is wisp-of-a-wind fast, in both her reactions and in her sprint [ closest reference i could find in media is Quicksilver from the X-Men films ]. Secondly, her body heals at incredible rates. Cuts and broken bones can heal almost immediately and it’s a process that’s very visible to the naked eye. Organs take longer to regenerate. Also, her body doesn’t scar unless a body part is removed, so the only scars on her body are the ones on her back. Tattoos also fade away in a matter of days after getting them and piercings don’t last much either. Lastly, Adrianna had the physical strength of two or three grown men, making her capable to pack a punch or, let’s say, flip a car over.

There are downsides and limitations that her physical form imposes on her abilities. Such as the muscles and tendons of her legs ripping if she uses her agility too much. Or the bones in her fist shattering if she throws a full force punch.

Under extreme stress, Adrianna can unlock a burst of power, a sort of overflowing of devine energy. The way it functions is that her skin starts tearing in various patterns from which bright rays of light seep through, her hair and eyes are overtaken by bright glimmers of light and all her abilities are enhanced. She can summon a spear of light, which used to be her main weapon as a Heruvim, which is capable of burning and corroding through everything that’s been touched by even the smallest sin. However, this isn’t a sustainable state, since this devine energy is destructive to her own body. Basically her physical body is unable to contain all this power and starts to self destruct if left in this state for too long.

#[ Angel ]#[ vibes ]

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chaoticspacefam · 4 years

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OC Stats Meme!

Another fun tag from @rainofaugustsith, thank you! :D Note that my dates/ages are likely off, I’m easily confused by the dating system in Star Wars so do feel free to correct me if they’re wrong hkjgdyugd. Note that my fanfic doesn’t stick rigidly to the canon re: Valkorion/Vitiate’s origins and takeover, though the dates are the same, the actual circumstances do differ for the sake of my narrative (cause it’s fanfiction and I can do what I want within reason and I wanted to do something “different” so yeah! don’t like that then my blog ain’t for youuuu sorry, you go do you and I’ll do me! :D) and I cannot elaborate further than that as of yet without giving spoilers. So yes, Saarai is “very old” in comparison (though not for a Pureblood, she’s still quite young for her species!) and yes, it is on purpose ;) No pressure to do this, but if you want to great! :D I shall tag @swtorpadawan , @resol-nare , @koltosaber , @a-muirehen

Name: Aria Saal-Shenly (Ari (to Vano only), Darth Canis, Commander Canis) Face Claim: N/A, in-game face, though Aria has a streak of blonde dyed into her fringe on the left side which isn’t an option with the in-game customisation, and she also stops hiding the Sith tattoos on her face after the formation of the Alliance. You can see what those look like here in this lovely commission done for me by moonlitalien! :D) Age: 38 in 3629 BBY if my math is correct (though physically looks about 24 because Force sensitivity and all) Height: 5 ‘ 1″ or 1.54m Species: Sith Human Gender: Female Birthday: 3667 BBY, I think. I’m awful at working out the dates and I have no idea how the months work in Star Wars but if it were in our universe her birthday would be July 14th and she’d be a Cancer Residence: Odessen, formally her ship, the Seraphim. Small getaway apartment on Manaan which she shares with her wife. Marital status/Love interest: Married and Force bonded to my Sith Warrior, Vano. Good Drink: Aria is partial to alcoholic drinks of all sorts and isn’t particularly fussy, she’ll drink pretty much anything, though the stronger the better. Has a particular fondness for Corellian Whiskey and Arkanian Sweet Milk (on occasion) Food/snacks: Meal-wise, Aria likes good, hearty food like stews or curries, whatever meat they would make it with in the Star Wars verse, I assume Uxibeast/Bantha and so on? hahaha), snack-wise, she’s partial to bantha jerky but will eat just about anything as long as it’s quick and isn’t too fiddly, the last thing she wants is to have to stop working to eat said snack ;) Day or Night: Either, Aria doesn’t have a particular preference Pet: Two Tuk’ata named Chwûq and Taral and a Varactyl (who I still need to find a fitting name for) Colour: Gunmetal grey Flower: Oleander, Peony, Snapdragon Sexuality: Demiromantic pansexual Body Type: Short, very stocky and extremely square in shape, not curvy at all. Eye Colour: Dark side amber, naturally heterochromic (left is dark brown, right is grey) Hair Colour: Raven black with a dyed blonde streak in her fringe

Name: Vano Saal-Shenly (Va (to Aria and Merak only), The Emperor’s Empire’s Wrath (formerly), Commander Shenly) Face Claim: N/A, in-game face, though Vano is missing her left eye circa The Quinncident, that’s not an option in the in-game customiser so I did the best I could with the scar on her face :)) Age: 41 in 3629 BBY if my math is correct (though physically looks about 27 because Force sensitivity and all) Height: 6 ‘ 2″ or 1.89m Species: Mirialan Gender: Female Birthday: 3670 BBY, she’d be a Pisces, somewhere around March 7th is jumping out at me for her birthday for some reason. I’ll update these if I ever figure out the month system in SWTOR hahaha Residence: Odessen, formally her ship, the Razor. Small getaway apartment on Manaan which she shares with her wife. Marital status/Love interest: Married and Force bonded to my Jedi Consular, Aria. Briefly involved with Xerid Ferral (my Thana Vesh stand-in) in her younger years before being “apprenticed” to Baras Good Drink: Green tea. Will drink alcohol, but nowhere near as much as Aria, tends to prefer light, fruity wines as opposed to the heavy hitters. Food/snacks: Meal-wise is not particularly fussy, will eat just about anything as long as she knows it won’t kill her. XD Loves dried fruit (particularly peach and apple or whatever the Star Wars equivalents of those are, I need to look them up properly I admit, it’s been a while hahaha) as a snack Day or Night: Day Pet: A Varactyl (in addition to Aria’s, the two Varactyls are also a mated pair) who also also needs a name, technically Chwûq and Taral as well though they are more Aria’s than Vano’s, they do follow and protect Vano as well because they’re almost always together Colour: Red Flower: Edelweiss, Tulip, Violet Sexuality: Bisexual Body Type: Tall and muscular, but very lithe, about 80% leg and 20% everything else, looks like a sprint-runner. Eye Colour: Dark brown, nearly black Hair Colour: Black

Name: Saarai Ahaszaai (Rai, Lord Rubrum, Empress Ahaszaai) Face Claim: N/A, in-game face, though she does have a scar across her nose and another on her lip that I forgot to add because I put her through the character creator at like 4am when I should have been asleep and my brain was almost pudding. I will be getting her to the appearance designer on the fleet once she’s done Korriban to add as close of one in as I can XD Age: 110 in 3629 BBY if my math is correct (which would be the equivalent of a human 25 - 26 year old according to my personal Pureblood lore/age ranges :)) Height: 6 ‘ 3″ or 1.92m Species: Sith Pureblood Gender: Female Birthday: 3739 BBY, if I’m working these out correctly *keyboard smash* She’d be a Scorpio, with her birthday sometime in November Residence: Odessen, formally Rishii and Dromund Kaas before that Marital status/Love interest: Canonically married and Force bonded to my friend’s Nautolan Sash, but in the Subterfuge-verse is married to Lana Beniko Good Drink: Sparkwine Food/snacks: Bacon (or whatever the Star Wars equivalent is...exoboar fillet? XD), anything with meat in it. Like most Purebloods (in my verse), Saarai is a carnivore, though she can manage small amounts of fruits or veg she usually sticks to meat. Fond of native Korribani and Kaasian cuisine as it’s a reminder of Sith Space, where she has not set foot for many, many years Day or Night: Night, especially if the sky is clear and she can see the stars Pet: None Colour: Dark blue Flower: Anemone, Carnation, Lotus Sexuality: Bisexual, but female-exclusive due to a bad past experience with her son’s father. She hasn’t been comfortable letting another man touch her since and never will be. Body Type: Tall, broad-shouldered and muscular. Slight hourglass shape but very chunky and heavy-set. Literally a tank, not someone you want pelting towards you on the battlefield because she could (and will) run you over but good. Eye Colour: Sulfur yellow Hair Colour: Maroon

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